Present Fears Are Less Than Horrible Imaginings.

Now Old Desire Doth In His Deathbed Lie, And Young Affection Gapes To Be His Heir; That Fair For Which Love Groan'd For And Would Die, With Tender Juliet Match'd, Is Now Not Fair.

Love Is Too Young To Know What Conscience Is.

Though Music Oft Hath Such A Charm To Make Bad Good, And Good Provoke To Harm.

In The Modesty Of Fearful Duty, I Read As Much As From The Rattling Tongue Of Saucy And Audacious Eloquence.

He Hath Borne Himself Beyond The Promise Of His Age, Doing, In The Figure Of A Lamb, The Feats Of A Lion.